


After A Lifetime of Poor Judgment, We Were Bound to Start Going Up At Some Point

by anotherbuskitten



Series: At the Edges of a New Camelot [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherbuskitten/pseuds/anotherbuskitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which things really, really don't change as much as they should. Not noticeably at any rate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A - D

**Author's Note:**

> Parts A through D. It's a bit of dodgy start here but from E onwards it's quite good.

**A**

Harry did listen when he was eleven and someone first mentioned the name Sirius to him. He _did_. He just got the distinct impression that no one would have mentioned that he still had a family figure (a godfather!) if it weren’t for the swirl of magic around his wrist.

The bracelet had been there for as long as he could remember even though no one else had ever seen it before.

Professor Dumbledore explained about Sirius; what he was, what he’d done, what had happened, and Harry listened and he even, after hearing that his parents had been betrayed by the man, considered taking it off.

Except –

Except that it was his; the one thing in the entire world that no one could take from him. And his parents were dead but the fey boy must have loved them, Harry was sure of it, for whenever he played with the bracelet he could feel that love pouring out and surrounding him. It was the closest thing he had to family.

And Sirius was locked up so what did it matter if Harry couldn’t shake an attachment to him?

**B**

It matters two years later when all the news reports are pronouncing, and exclaiming, and _gossiping_ about the madman’s escape from the most heavily guarded building in the known world.

Harry, for the first time since Professor Dumbledore sat him down and explained the legends of the fey, took out the books he had bought and studied each page for a way to either hide from or contact the beings.

He found nothing but only touched his bracelet in sorrow and resignation. So far he didn’t think he had any reason to fear his godfather.

//

Professor Lupin stares at his arm. From the first time they meet, on the train, he stares only at Harry’s arm; not his eyes or his scar but his arm. More specifically; his bracelet.

The first Hogsmeade visit; the one that Ron and Hermione have gone to without him, he goes to talk Professor Lupin about it.

He tries to explain that, _yes_ , he knows about Sirius and what he did and he wears it anyway and could he please stop staring but before he can finish his first sentence Lupin has halted him by pulling up his sleeve to reveal a terribly similar bracelet.

Later Harry will be ashamed to admit that his first feeling is jealousy that Lupin has one too and disappointment that this means he isn’t special in this way.

For now he says nothing. He does nothing. He barely even breathes.

Lupin clears his throat awkwardly. “It’s hard to let go of that sort of love isn’t it?” Harry considers the question to be rhetorical and says nothing until Lupin is forced to continue.

“I thought you would have taken yours off as soon as you learnt what he did.” He murmured.

Harry shook his head and paused, unsure of how to word it without appearing heartless. “I’ve never had any family I can remember. But it makes me feel loved, wanted. I don’t think I could throw that away.

**C**

“Hello? I know you’re,” he pauses, remembering what Lupin had told him about presuming, “You’re here. I can tell. The forest feels, feels different – better. I know that; Professor Lupin feels it too. But. The castle feels better too. Happier, stronger. No one else seems to notice.

“I thought, thought it was you, that you were happy to be home; I get that whenever I come back to Hogwarts, but it isn’t is it? It isn’t happiness.”

His voice starts and stops but carries over the wind anyway. He knows someone is listening.

//

He’s almost ready to leave when Sirius appears. He’s tired and shivering and his feet ache and he thinks for the first time that maybe he isn’t wanted here anymore than he is wanted at the Dursley’s.

\\\\\

The forest has looked after itself while he was gone. The trees are bare but alive, the bushes have turned to barriers, the treetops block out the sun, the berries are bitter and the thorns are everywhere.

He is the forest and the forest is him and he has been underground for the last decade. Underground, away from the sun, surrounded by despair.

There had been a lot of moss though. Enough to keep him going.

There were few things that could kill his people; the fire obviously, or too much of anything but mostly they were strong and once they were rooted they were there to stay.

He had been uprooted and stuck in the dark and the cold with only the moss and the sword for company.

He had been dark beforehand (though the concept was still foreign to him he knew his people would never be classified as light) but now he was so much more.

And stronger too. If he could survive a decade without sun he could survive anything.

//

The boy is – many things – he is curious, and strong, and brave, and _his._

He still hates the idea of domestication but. But the boy wears his magic with pride and love and –

_“It isn’t happiness.”_

He lets himself be seen.

“In comparison to Azkaban, most everywhere is happy.”

The boy startles and stumbles a little. Sirius lets the leaves cushion him.

“But it isn’t happiness.” His throat is sore.

“I was gone too long. The forest withered and fell. I’m reclaiming it.”

“How far does the forest spread? If it reaches the castle, I mean.”

“As far as it can. The land here is mine and so is much of what’s close.” He hums in consideration. “There’s a place in Wales that belongs to me and I think I may have claimed the prison. By accident.” He clarifies.

“Big forest.”

His lips twitch upward, “You can’t measure a soul. Come forward; we’ll go somewhere warmer.” The boy follows him without hesitation.

\\\\\

The deeper they get into the trees the safer Harry feels. He didn’t feel like this on any of his previous excursions but today he feels unafraid of the things that lurk.

The glen he is led to is small and hidden, the trees part for Sirius who slips inside keeping a hand on Harry’s wrist in order to pull him in. The trees feel possessive.

It’s a small area; a few mossy stones and a lot of ferns. There are ivy vines holding the edges together and buds of mistletoe on the ceiling. It’s entrancing.

Sirius is – he seems more alive somehow than he did before. One of the trees is shaped to fit him and he falls gratefully into it, and as he relaxes the bark hardens into a throne, the mistletoe expands above him, the ivy snakes over his body; winding and relaxing and finally fading into inked patterns on his skin.

It’s beautiful. _He’s_ beautiful.

**D**

Remus remembers when Sirius kissed him.

They had been chatting about mushrooms while Sirius weaved him a bouquet of flowers he didn’t understand.

_(mayflowers, peonies, mauve and white carnations, thorn-apple and baby datura vines)_

And suddenly he was against a tree with Sirius’ lips on his, his teeth nipping and drawing blood. It had been fierce and sudden and maddeningly lovely and over far too quickly.

He learned later that for fey kisses were a way of claiming and that Sirius had also kissed and drawn blood from James and Peter. From Lily too, later.

But it held in his mind, that moment, still and silent and preserved. He knew he would always be Sirius’ and that Sirius would never belong to anyone but himself.

//

He knows, as soon as he sees Harry’s wrist and the strands of magic surrounding it, that Harry will be pulled into the forest as far as any of them were. Perhaps further, as Harry has already, happily accepted that he belongs to Sirius.

Still, he worries for them.

_(When he next sees Harry he tells him that mistletoe is Sirius’s favourite)_


	2. E - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characterization! Except for Ron and Hermione, neither of whom I can write.

**E**

He lets Harry sleep in the fern hammock while he checks on the animals; whistling while he walks. The company is good and he has missed smiling.

Closest to his haven are the unicorns and the wild crups. The unicorns neigh and rear in greeting when they see him; they are joyful these days, wild, unbridled, alive.

It is a great joy to be alive.

He sits with them in the clover field and combs through their manes and tails. The foals snort and huff until he gives them warrior braids and daisy crowns. The fillies nose his face and bring him fresh clover. The mares stand at a distance, guarding their tribe.

The crups are between the unicorns and the stream that runs past and into the school lake. They bark at him in between intervals of licking and whining for attention. He lays back and lets them clamber all over him.

A great joy indeed.

\\\

Harry wakes up alone and deeply refreshed. He’s unsure of how long he’s been asleep; only that the sky is now a cloudy mist and the warmth of the sun is diminished. He isn’t cold though, as the trees have blanketed him while he slept so that when he yawns their leaves flit to coat the ground.

He isn’t sure whether or not he should be nervous now Sirius isn’t here. The glade looks somehow even more beautiful in the early dusk. He has a niggling feeling at the back of his mind as though he had forgotten something important. But Sirius is the only thing on his mind.

Harry stands and stretches. In this half-asleep state the forest seems more welcoming than ever; despite previous experiences he can hardly imagine acromantula or dark wizards spending time here. He wonders if Sirius knows that Voldemort was here.

He doesn’t really want to leave the small enclosure; not when he feels so safe and protected here but he knows that his friends will be missing him by now. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been asleep – for all everyone at the castle knew he’d been captured and killed by Sirius Black.

Harry blinked. That was sort of what had happened. He had to find a way to Sirius to warn him.

\\\

Sirius is unsure as to whether there’s anything out there worse than dementors but at this point he’s willing to bet that the answer is no.

He had found the first one at the edge of the forest border outside Hogwarts and its excitement had soon summoned others.

For the first time he felt he could see an upside to his time in prison; the bars kept the monsters out as well as him in.

There were no bars here. There was magic for fighting them but it was one of the most human magics out there – one that could only be performed with a wand. He’d never needed a wand before now.

He was backed up against the trees wishing he was enough of a coward to summon a passage away from the village. But the forest was under his protection and dementors had a way of slipping through the cracks.

There was already dark magic hanging in the trees; the crups and unicorns hadn’t had much to say but the centaurs had a plethora of gossip to give him.

Voldemort had been here. Here.

He had so much anger stored up inside him. He craved battle these days; not as much as peace but to wield a weapon again; to allow his rage an outlet would be so –

He had a weapon. He had Excalibur – she was still here protecting him, still keeping him safe after all this time stuck in the dark.

She was warm and solid in his grip. He hadn’t held her properly since Camelot fell and he’d made the decision to help the Knights instead of leaving with his people. He didn’t regret it anymore; he had barely had regret when he was newly outcast.

He swung the sword angrily, slicing clean through the ragged capes closest by. There was no finesse here, he barely remembered his training – just his anger – rage enough to topple mountains, loyalty to dead civilisations and families who had long since forsaken him. Loyalty to a boy he barely knew.

Sentiment. What a curse.

**F**

Harry finds the forest outside of the Sirius’ haven as twisty and frightening as his memories made out. He couldn’t help but fear that the relaxed, companionable time he’d had with Sirius had been a lie; that he really had been kidnapped.

He tripped and slammed face down into the dirt. He sat up shakily and lent against a tree; the forest was identical on every side; Harry felt rather like he was playing a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey – blindfolded and spun until he didn’t know which way was up.

He’d only played the party game once before; at a birthday party of Dudley’s when the Dursleys hadn’t been able to foist him off to Mrs Figg, where all the pins had ended up being stuck into him instead of the donkey.

“Hello young Potter.”

Firenze, the centaur he had met two years ago, stood above him, offering a hand.

Harry took it and heaved himself to his feet. “Uh, thanks.”

“Why are you back in the forest? It is still dangerous.”

“I know.” Harry nodded, “I was with a – with a friend.”

“The forest will be safer soon.” Firenze did not appear to be listening to his explanations.

“Err…” Harry said, “Is that in the stars?”

Firenze chuckled. “No. Our guardian has returned. The days are brighter now.” He smiled warmly at Harry.

Harry grinned back, suddenly blindingly happy. They were on the edge of the forest now.

“Thanks for helping me find my way back.” He bowed to the centaur suddenly; feeling as though it was the thing to do.

“Err...if you see the guardian, could you tell him I’ve gone back to the castle?”

Firenze bowed back. “Of course.”

\\\

Harry grinned the entire way back to the Gryffindor common room, still deliriously happy at the thought of family.

He only got halfway through the portrait hall before he was grabbed and pulled into a fierce hug.

“Hermione! What are you doing? Are you ok?”

“Am I okay?” She repeated shrilly. Behind her Ron was nodding furiously. “Where have you been? The feast ended hours ago!”

Harry blinked back to reality. “I had tea with Professor Lupin.” He said quietly, unsure, for the first time ever, of how much he could tell them.

“And then?”

“I was just – walking. I got lost in the forest.” Even to his own ears it sounded like a lie.

“Hmph.” Hermione snorted and stormed off up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory. Harry stared after her despondently.

He turned imploringly to Ron.

His friend bit his lip, “Do want some sweets? You must be hungry.”

Harry breathed a breath of relief and nodded.

\

Up in the dormitory Harry and Ron gorged on sweets and discussed Hogsmeade.

In the middle of a particularly impassioned speech on butterbeer Ron paused and looked directly at Harry.

“We were just worried about you mate, you know that right? After the last two years…”

Harry nodded and ripped open a chocolate frog.

“And whatever it is, well as long as it isn’t hurting anyone then I won’t say anything.”

Harry swallowed the chocolate leg and nodded some more. “I just, can’t say anything, not yet.”

Ron stared at him a moment more and then went back to the subject of butterbeer.

**G**

It was almost two weeks into November before Remus managed to gather his courage and go down to the forest and look for Sirius.

It was cold, much like the first time he and James and Peter had gone to find him. In fact, he was startled to realise, the dates of then and now were probably within of few days of each other.

“I don’t have any food this time.” He called up weakly as he stepped into the welcoming forest.

There was a laugh from up ahead. Of course there was, he wasn’t fool enough to think Sirius wasn’t constantly aware of everyone around him.

“Have I gone down in your estimation, my friend?”

“Not really,” he brushed away a few of the closest branches and walked further in, “I’ve made an effort to not think of you for the past decade.” He heard nothing in return but continued walking forward.

A tree appeared in his peripheral vision where previously there had been empty air. He froze completely and waited for the next move.

The tree, as trees tend to, did nothing.

Remus considered his options. He wanted to apologise but wasn’t sure which part of it all he was sorry for.

“How’s Harry?” He asked instead.

“Tremendously human.”

Remus huffed, “You probably think that’s helpful, don’t you?”

“Would you prefer for him to be inhuman?”

“I suppose not. He might be better off for it though.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed around him, “Losing faith in your people?”

“He seems happier.” Remus said ineffectually.

The tree blinked out of existence revealing a familiar path in its wake.

“Can I assume then, that you are not here to return me to the authorities?”

“I was wondering about that actually.” He paused at a slightly familiar log and sat down, “Was it legal for us to hold you in custody?”

“It isn’t illegal.” Sirius replied. “Though I suspect there would be quite a fuss if the reverse were to happen.”

Remus laughed, “Are you planning on arresting anyone?”

“Much as I’d like to, I don’t really hold the authority.” The log dipped and Remus very carefully didn’t react. “I might be able to exact justice for things committed on my land.” He sounded feral.

“Anything recent?”

“Dementors.” Sirius growled. “I’ve had to lock the forest edges to keep them out. If it weren’t for how bad things have gotten in the past few years I might let them catch me just to get rid of the damned things.”

Remus sucked in a sharp breath. “Sirius…”

“The Boy was here. Here! How bad have the defences become, for that to happen?”

Remus cast his mind back to the vague stories he’d heard about the past two years.  “That was Quirrel, right? After the philosopher’s stone?”

“So the centaurs say. And then last year –” He cut off suddenly. “Well I’m a little at blame for that one I suppose.”

“You knew about the basilisk?”

Sirius shifted closer and leaned into him, “She was there to protect the school. The founders asked permission and everything.”

“Muggleborns –

“Muggles,” Sirius corrected, “And only the ones who were interested in burning everyone. You can’t blame them for being cautious.”

“You gave permission?”

“If you can call it that. I followed Helga here – I hadn’t settled yet.”

“So the land…”

“The deed was in Gryffindor’s name. We both allowed the other to settle and they checked in sometimes about which species they could let in.” He waved a hand around the forest casually, “I don’t really mind who comes and goes as long as they don’t start anything. They wanted a protector and Godric’s squid was not quite a solution.”

“Aren’t you a protector?”

Sirius laughed into his shoulder, “I should have been.” He whispered bitterly; Remus said nothing and waited for him to continue, “But they didn’t ask and I didn’t offer. I didn’t want to watch it fall again.”

Instead of asking what he was talking about Remus encircled him in his arms and started humming.


	3. H

**H**

The defence lesson was the last of the day and as much fun as Professor Lupin’s classes were Harry was looking forward to sinking into a chair by the fire and then sneaking down to the forest when everyone was at the feast.

“A moment, Harry, if you don’t mind.” Lupin stopped him as everyone started to leave. Ron and Hermione stilled in their own packing but Harry shook his head and motioned for them to go on. Lupin’s hand rested just below his bracelet.

Lupin led him into his office. Sirius was sitting on the desk, legs swinging and a strange smile playing on his face. He looked very out of place with no greenery in sight.

Harry grinned and stepped quickly over to him and hugged him hard. Sirius hopped off the desk and encircled him warmly.

Professor Lupin cleared his throat.

“Right.” Sirius coughed and dropped his arms. “Remus is concerned about –”

Professor Lupin levelled him with an impressive glare.

Sirius sighed loudly, “Fine. _We’re_ concerned about how much you know.”

Harry blinked and looked from one to the other.

“Know about what?”

“Me, mostly.” Sirius shuffled a little guiltily.

Lupin rolled his eyes. “More specifically, the events surrounding your parent’s deaths.”

“He thinks you trusted me too quickly.” Sirius whispered loudly.

Lupin sighed. “Would you like a cup of tea, Harry?”

“Uh…ok.” Harry sat down in the spare chair and waited.

Nobody said anything until the tea was laid on the desk. Lupin and Sirius exchanged heavy looks while Harry breathed in the steam and wondered what he was missing.

Lupin rolled his eyes again and opened his mouth. “What do you know about how they died, Harry?”

“Uh…Voldemort killed them. Professor Dumbledore told me they were in hiding and Sirius betrayed their location.”

“And you don’t believe him?” Lupin asked curiously.

“I wasn’t sure to begin with but,” he fiddled nervously with his bracelet, “He hasn’t done anything to hurt me and it’s always felt like love.” He hoped desperately that that would satisfy them.

Lupin nodded.

“It’s better than I thought it would be.”

Sirius looked at him. “I suppose.” He looked angry.

Lupin rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No!” They both spoke at the same time.

“No.” Sirius said in a quieter voice. “We were just worried.” He bit his lip and carried on in an even smaller voice. “How did you know my name?”

Lupin sucked in a sharp breath.

Sirius ignored him and stared at Harry, waiting.

“I…Dumbledore told me. When we first talked.”

A storm filled Sirius’ face. Lupin grimaced and reached across the desk to grab his arm. “You were splattered all over the papers, Sirius, then and now.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“No. But Albus might not have meant any harm.”

Sirius scoffed and sank moodily into his seat.

Lupin caught sight of Harry’s confusion and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Explain it to him Sirius.”

Sirius’ face softened when he looked at Harry. “Sirius isn’t my real name. I can’t give anyone my true name because if they were to use it I would be forced to obey them – sort of like the imperious curse – except there’s no way to fight it. Albus Dumbledore spent the better part of our acquaintance trying to get me to say mine.

“In our culture it’s terribly rude to give up someone else’s name – any name. I do understand that it’s different here but I still expect some courtesy. I try not to disrespect human traditions I do not understand or agree with.

“The fact that Dumbledore believes me a criminal does not excuse this. Especially considering –”

He broke off and gulped at his tea.

Harry sipped his own as he stared.

“Considering what, Sirius?” Lupin said sharply.

Sirius sighed, “You were out when I left.” He said. “On a mission somewhere.”

“I remember.”

“I stopped by Lily and James’ when I left. Dumbledore was there. I told them I was going to check on Camelot, that I’d be gone for a few weeks. The wards needed renewing. That was the 28th. I came back quicker than I’d expected. If I’d known that no one would fight it I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be arrested.”

Lupin stared at him. He opened his mouth a few times but said nothing.

Sirius gave a wry smile, “By the time I realised no one was fighting it the dementors had gotten to me. That combined with the lack of sunlight; I just gave up.”

“Until now.” Said Harry curiously, “What changed?”

“Peter.” Sirius growled lowly.

“Peter,” Lupin sighed. “Peter Pettigrew was another friend of ours. He vanished during a fight a few weeks before Lily and James –”

“Before they died.” Harry finished woodenly.

Lupin nodded. “We thought, for obvious reasons, that he’d been killed by one of Voldemort’s followers but as it turns out, we may have been wrong.”

“He was their secret keeper.” Sirius said, “He knew where they were hiding. He was the only one who could tell people where they were.”

“There’s a lot we don’t know about fey magics.” Remus muttered, low enough that Harry wasn’t sure if anyone was meant to hear.

“If I knew of a better defence I would have suggested it.” Sirius shot back bitterly, “And much as it may pain you to know, my people have much better things to do than counter every spell you think up.”

Lupin frowned at him. “That isn’t fair Sirius. You never told us anything.”

“Because none of it was relevant!” Sirius shouted back in fury.

“And how were we to know that?” Lupin stood up, slamming his hands down on the table; Harry’s tea slopped over the edges of its cup.

“How many lectures did we get on trusting each other? I was banished, I was there under my own steam; my people played no part in your conflict.”

“That’s no reason not to help.” Lupin looked old. “How can you let this go so easily? They were your friends too.”

“So I should have asked for others to be sent in? How do you think that would have been received?”

“YOU COULD HAVE TRIED!”

“I did as much as I was able.” Sirius’ voice had turned stiff and cold. Harry wondered if he could get away with leaving.

“As much as you were able?” Lupin spits back, “I’ve seen what you can do in the forest. If you’d utilised even the little we knew of your abilities –”

“Stop it.” Sirius snaps. “I did what I could, and if you wish to curse me for not wanting to bury any more friends then you can do it in your own time. This is about Harry.”

Harry gulped.

“This is about all of us.” Lupin had stopped shouting. He fell into his chair with his head in his hands.

Sirius stared at him.

“I forgot how young you are.”

Lupin blinked. “To be honest, I always forget you aren’t the same age. How many wars have you lived through now?”

Sirius laughed. “Too many. But I never got involved before. If you thought I was selfish this time…” He trailed off and gave a weak smile.

Harry waited a few minutes before asking about Peter Pettigrew again.

This time it was Lupin who answered. “Sirius somehow managed to get hold of a copy of the prophet while in Azkaban –

“Inimitable charm.” Sirius interjected.

– Something like that, I’m sure. Anyway this particular issue happened to have an article about the Weasley’s winning a trip to Egypt in it with an accompanying picture.” He paused and Harry nodded, not really seeing what this had to do with anything.

“One of the boys in the picture had a rat on his shoulder.” Sirius said.

Harry nodded again. “Ron has a pet rat, yeah.”

“Do you know what an animagus is, Harry?”

“Yeah, McGonagall’s one. She can turn into a cat.”

“Right.” Lupin nodded, he looked a little scared. “Peter was a rat animagus.”

“What?” Harry felt stunned and a bit confused. Surely Lupin wasn’t suggesting that Scabbers….

“Firstly you should know that I. That I…” He trailed off.

Sirius picked up the sentence. “Remus is a werewolf.”

Harry blinked. “What?” He was beginning to feel like a broken record.

“Yes.” Lupin confirmed. “I have it a little easier than most though.”

“Not back then.” Sirius shook his head.

“No. I was bitten when I was quite young so I was already a werewolf when I came to Hogwarts. James, Peter and I were all in Gryffindor together and by second year they’d discovered my secret. Understandably I thought that if anyone found out I’d be chased from the school so obviously this terrified me.”

Harry stared, enthralled.

“But they didn’t tell anyone. They didn’t even abandon me. Instead they studied to become animagi. Being as smart as they were they managed this by fifth year and started joining me on full moons. It was soon after that that we met Sirius.”

“And Pettigrew was a rat.” Harry said with dawning comprehension.

They nodded.

“And you’re sure it’s Scabbers?”

“Ron’s rat?” Lupin checks, “Yes. I’ve seen the photo and if Sirius wasn’t certain I’d definitely know it.”

“You said he disappeared?” Harry checked.

“We thought they’d killed him. Or that they were trying to torture the information out of him. Voldemort really wanted to know where your parents were.

“We never thought for a second that he was a spy. That he planned it all.”

Sirius’ face hardened as Lupin finished talking but he didn’t say anything. Harry felt relieved; he didn’t want to hear another argument.

“So what are you doing now?” He asked instead.

They exchanged looks. “Well that’s a bit of a problem,” Sirius replied slowly, “Because the ministry isn’t going to listen to either of us and we don’t think Dumbledore will either.”

“Do you want me to try and get Scabbers down here?”

Lupin paled. “No, you don’t want to let on that you know.”

“Hold on,” Sirius interrupted, “Isn’t it better if Harry can get him here or into the forest than he keeps sleeping in the same room every night.”

“Better than what exactly? Peter transforming and trying to kill them all when he catches wind of something?”

“He could just as easily find out up there when they’re at their most vulnerable!”

“He’s been up there for two years already!”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“He won’t be stupid enough to go onto the grounds. Not with you back.”

“Then why didn’t he run before term started? He must have known I’d come here.”

Lupin’s mouth opened and closed. He dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t understand why he did any of it.”

Sirius’ hands shook.

Harry waited for a moment considering everything. He wasn’t sure who he agreed with when it came to capturing Pettigrew, except…

“Isn’t the castle yours as well, though?”

They both turned to stare at him. Lupin’s eyes furrowed. Sirius sighed deeply.

“Hell. Yes, yes it is. But I don’t have the same control inside as I do outside. I can make it so he’s unable to leave the grounds but until he goes outside that’s the extent of my ability.”

He sagged against the wall. Lupin anxiously swirled his tea and didn’t say anything. Harry shrugged; it was both more and less than he’d expected.

“So should we just…wait for an opportunity?” He asked.

The adults both shrugged.

“Doesn’t look like we’ve got much of a choice.” Lupin said grimly. “We should let you get back to your friends Harry.”

“Unless,” Sirius said slowly, “What about that map you used to have? What happened to that?”

“Map?” Said Harry, stilling at the door. He was ignored.

“That would be useful.” Lupin said thoughtfully. “Except for one small thing.”

“Yes…” Sirius said suspiciously.

“We sort of…lost it.” Lupin smiled sheepishly.

“Lost it.”

“Yeah, Filch caught it on us in seventh year and confiscated it. As far as I know he’s still got it.”

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well ask for it back.”

“Oh, come on!”

“No, seriously, you’re a teacher now and it’s your property. Surely confiscated items should be given back when you graduate anyway?”

“Well we were a little…wild. I can see why he’d want to punish us.”

“It was over twenty years ago.”

Lupin grinned. “More than a little wild then.

“Alright. Alright, here’s what you do. You wait for a staff meeting and bring it up then; you frame it as a tool for catching me – make sure you mention the name thing in case Albus is still interested in that. If Filch holds out start talking about how much you miss James and Pettigrew and try and win some sympathy.”

“For someone who can’t lie, you’re remarkably good at it.”

Sirius glowered.

Harry laughed and waved goodbye to them, only a little worried about what he was going to say to Ron and Hermione.


	4. I

Harry hums to himself as he leads his friends down to the forest. He hasn’t been able to work out a way of explaining the situation to them so he’d decided to introduce them to his godfather.

He wasn’t going to tell them everything; just the bare bones and then Sirius could fill in what he was comfortable with.

“We’re not going into the forest are we? Harry?” Ron asks nervously. Harry feels a twinge of guilt at the thought of last year.

“We won’t see any spiders I promise. We won’t go in far.” I think, he doesn't add.

“Harry stop!” Hermione snaps loudly. He does so, in surprise.

“What?"

“You need to give us more information before we just charge in there. The forest’s dangerous.”

He considers it for a bit. “Alright. Come here and talk quietly. It’s about Sirius Black.” Mentally he apologises for sharing the name – even if they did already know it it had seemed like quite a big deal.

“So, firstly, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but he’s my godfather.”

They gasp dramatically. Hermione’s hand rises to cover her mouth. Ron grimaces at him.

“Aw, sorry mate.”

“What?” Harry blinks, “No it’s brilliant. That’s the second thing; he’s actually innocent. And –” He raises a hand to forestall them, “I know his word shouldn’t be the most trustworthy thing ever but by now he’s had plenty of time to kill me if he wanted to. And Professor Lupin can vouch for him as well.”

He watches them for a moment; they don't seem convinced.

He turns around and starts back to the forest. “Come on, then! I want you to meet him.”

“Harry!” Hermione shouts.

“Please?” Harry says, “Look he’s all the family I’ve got. I need you to at least meet him.”

Ron starts walking forward first.  Hermione doesn’t look convinced but she follows anyway. Harry grins at them in relief.

Sirius is lounging on a log barely a metre into the forest trying to convince an uprooted flower to bloom. He stands up when he sees them.

“Hello Harry.” He smiles, “Hello Harry’s friends.”

Ron and Hermione shuffle nervously and murmur greetings.

Harry nudges them. “You have to introduce yourselves.”

Ron looks at him oddly but nods and holds out a hand. “Ron Weasley.” His teeth are gritted.

Sirius shakes the dirt from his hand and takes it. “Sirius. But it’s alright if you don’t want to introduce yourselves. I can communicate without names.”

Hermione nods. Harry rolls his eyes.

Sirius smiles widely and kneels down. “There was a stampede, of sorts, last night and I need to replant them.” He digs a small hole and inserts the weak plant.

“Do you need help?” Harry asks, already rolling up his sleeves and looking around for plants.

“Not really. You’re welcome to join in if you’re bored but I assume you’ve a reason for coming down here?”

“I just wanted you to meet my friends.”

“Hmm. Well you picked a good time. If you’d come yesterday I’d probably have chased you away.” The previous day had been constant rain. Harry hadn’t even considered leaving the castle.

Today the grass defied yesterday’s weather and was only faintly damp, and the sun twinkled wetly from behind the clouds.

Harry doesn’t voice any of this. “I wouldn’t run away from you. You’ve never frightened me.”

“I’ve never tried.” Sirius says – his voice a cross between tired and sad. Harry shrugs and didn’t answer.

He turns to Ron and Hermione to see how they were dealing so far. They have twin looks of confusion and fear on their faces. He forces himself to remember that they only know what the Prophet says about Sirius.

He turns back to Sirius. “Can you tell them about Pettigrew?”

“I could, certainly. I expected you to have done so.”

He shrugs again. “I don’t know how much is private.”

Sirius smiles warmly and gestures for them to sit. “Very little to me. I’ve seen a few papers since my escape and become accustomed to having my known secrets scattered for all to see.”

“You can’t have a _known secret._ ” Hermione says; her first words since arriving. Sirius nods, conceding the point.

“They don’t have all of it though. Enough to know it’s a secret but not enough to understand it.”

Hermione’s lips twitch like she wants to smile. Harry bites back a grin.

“Can you tell us any of them?” She says curiously.

“Would that be a step towards you relaxing?”

Ron and Hermione consider it before nodding. To prove it they settle into the dirt as well, although Hermione casts a dirt-repelling spell and Ron checks for spiders first.

“I was cast a death eater.” Sirius says quietly, “That was a secret once.”

Harry stares at him. “I didn’t know that!”

Sirius chuckles. “I may not have received any legal trial but they still had some evidence pointing towards me.” He rolls up his sleeve, revealing a strange tattoo on his forearm. Harry's reminded of the heavy-set teenagers who hang out under the bridge near Little Whinging. Judging by their gasps his friends saw something else in it.

“All death eaters were branded with the dark mark as a show of allegiance. During the war, when the casualties were at their highest, having one meant you were thrown straight into Azkaban. Those who survived it were given trials when things had settled down.

“I received mine during an…adventure with James. He had a mission from Dumbledore and persuaded me to go with him. Albus was never informed of my involvement of course.

“We both had one forced onto us; it hurt like being burnt alive, like the cruciatus curse, like something straight from Hel. I think it was supposed to be humiliation. Or a promise if we ever wanted to change sides.

“Neither of us ever spoke about it after it happened. I assume Dumbledore and the others knew about James’s though. He didn’t take me on any more missions after that.”

He finishes the story and strokes the mark for a few moments. “I think of it as naming mark most of the time. It doesn’t have anything to go with it but that’s ok.”

“What’s a naming mark?” Hermione says, narrowly beating Harry from asking the same thing.

“A mark for a name. I have all my names marked on me.” He smiles again, seemingly waiting for the question. Ron is the one to oblige him.

“How many names do you have? Can we see them?”

Sirius hums. “What do you know me by? I’m not telling you any you don’t know.”

Ron’s eyes widen infinitesimally but he says nothing.

Hermione said, “You’re Sirius Black.” After a pause Ron nods, as does Harry.

“I’ll show you those two then.” His face shimmers like a ray of sun had been thrown into it. “I wear glamours a lot; I’m not ashamed, it’s just very…private.”

The glamours reveal two marks on his head: a small handprint on his right cheek and four thick lines burnt onto the side of his head.

He points to the handprint first. “This one is Sirius and the other is Black. They’re separate names but no one seems to remember that.”

“How many do you have in total?” Harry asks softly.

“Mm. Eight. Three given, two chosen, one earned and one taken.”

“That’s only seven.” Hermione says.

Sirius shrugs. “My first name is not given, chosen, earned or taken. It just is. Sirius was my first chosen name and Black my third given.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that.” Hermione says petulantly. Harry thinks it is probably a Fey thing and Sirius would be unlikely to share his heritage this early.

“I have.” Ron says, surprising them both, “Bill told me about it. He said it’s how people used to protect themselves from curses – by having loads of names and when one was cursed they’d just discard it.”

Sirius smiles. “My family were quite paranoid.” Which was neither a confirmation nor a denial, Harry notes but he stays silent; happy to see them all at peace with one another. He decides not to ruin it by bringing up Pettigrew now; to wait until they were back at the castle.


	5. J

At the staff meeting Remus brings up the map warily, fully expecting Argus to shoot him down and nobody to back him up.

Instead he is disappointed in a different way.

“I don’t have it.”

“What?!”

“Some buggers nicked it. Either Peeves or them Weasleys I’d say.” Argus looks even grumpier than usual. “I would have gone after them but I thought they’d just taken some parchment.”

“But, but it was blank! Why would anyone steal a blank piece of parchment?” Remus groans mournfully.

“I put it in my ‘highly dangerous’ draw.” Argus puffs himself up proudly, “In case something like that happened; so any thieves wouldn’t get anything good.”

Remus’ eye twitches.

“Oh, Argus,” Minerva sighs, “You really should have known better than to think anything those three had could be harmless.”

Remus speaks suddenly, unable to keep quiet, “That isn’t fair Minerva; our pranks were juvenile but not dangerous.”

He’s courting danger as he says it but he allows the rage and rebuttals from Severus wash over him like a cool breeze.

“I rather agree with Severus there Remus; after everything that has happened since those days we should be wary of any tool that could help bring destruction. And furthermore, while I know you do not want to dwell on past mistakes, I think you should admit if Black helped you with it. We certainly shouldn’t be giving Black any kind of praise after what he’s done.” Albus says calmly. And even though Remus knows he can’t win this one he still fights back.

“He helped us a little with the finer details I admit, but not a great deal. And anyway we’ve no right to judge him for his actions. We know next to nothing of his life, and we’re certainly not a large enough part that we can condemn him.”

“Remus!” Minerva says loudly, sounding scandalised. “Are you really saying you can forgive him? After what he did to Lily and James?”

“No.” Remus says, desperately trying to keep his anger from bubbling over while at the same time wishing he had had the presence of mind before to say these things to Sirius, “I’m saying that it’s none of our places to forgive him.”

He doesn’t bother hiding what he’s talking about; he won’t say it aloud in case by some miracle Albus hasn’t told everyone about Sirius’ heritage, but equally he won’t pretend this case should be judged by humanity alone.

“Well I don’t know what you want us to do about that Remus,” Albus continues his calm, safe, you-know-I-know-best tone, “I don’t have any contacts there myself but if you know any fairies feel free to bring them to a meeting.”

Remus bristles at the slur but fails to say anything before Albus continues speaking.

“However, while I do understand how important this is, Black is not the sole focus of a meeting of teachers. I do understand your enthusiasm about this Remus but we should leave this matter to the ministry and focus on our jobs.”

It’s a good speech and Remus can’t find a rebuttal that isn’t either childish or obviously pushing the importance of the map but luckily he finds he doesn’t have to.

“Albus!” Poppy Pomfrey says shrilly. “You can’t leave these things to the ministry; they think putting dementors around children is a good idea. Perhaps if we’d done more last year instead of leaving it to a twelve year old, they wouldn’t think Hogwarts can’t take care of their own.”

Remus wants to cheer. Albus looks slightly stunned.

“Err. Yes, well put Poppy, perhaps Minerva could quiz the Weasley twins on this map. But I really do feel we should move on.” His smile is starting to look slightly strained.

After the meeting ends, Remus only half aware of its events, Minerva corners him.

“I’m not going to pretend I don’t think you’ve got another motive for this business Remus, but do you want to talk to the Weasley twins with me? And I will be having a word with Albus for singling them out; even if Argus did bring it up first.”

“Um. Sure.”

She levels him with an incredibly unimpressed look. “My students do have some amount of honour Remus and I suspect they would be more willing to give it back to an original owner.”

“Well,” Remus says, more cheerfully than he has been all day, “I don’t know they’d have to give it back – as long as they’re using it well I don’t think I should do more than borrow it for this year.”

“I can assure you Remus; neither of the Weasley twins will be using a map of the school for good – oh.” She frowns and barely holds back a roll of the eyes. “Proud of your legacy aren’t you?”

“The Marauder’s legacy, Minerva,” he says snootily, “Is a great thing. For one thing I’m fairly certain James would claim Harry as part of his.”

This time she doesn’t bother to hold back the eye roll. “Come on, _Lupin_ , and at least pretend to be a teacher when we do this.”

Remus cackles not quite enough under his breath to avoid another withering look.

/

Harry, Ron and Hermione are playing exploding snap/doing Arithmancy homework when Professor McGonagall opens the door to the Gryffindor common room. Because this has only happened once before – when Ginny had been taken into the chamber of secrets – everyone sat up straight and payed attention.

And, in Harry’s case, drops the card he was holding and causes a small explosion.

“Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley, please come with me.” She says sharply and everyone relaxes.

Harry notes that Ron and Percy don’t even bother to pretend they might be being called. Fred and George also don’t actually stand or make any move to leave.

“We haven’t done anything.” One of them says. There’s a ripple of laughter through the common room at the denial but neither twin breaks their expression. “No, really this time, we haven’t!”

“You aren’t in trouble yet Mr Weasley, although you will be if you don’t follow me.”

As one they shrug and stand.

“Ah–”

“Well–”

“Better–”

“Than–”

“Homework–”

“I–”

“Suppose.”

Harry watches as they follow her out of the common room until the chatter has died down, and then turns back to Ron reshuffling their cards.

/

Remus grins to himself as the portrait swings open again to allow Minerva and the two students through. He’d heard every word of the conversation.

He’s treated to another fierce glare from Minerva as soon as she sees him and his badly hidden glee. Behind the weariness and irritation though he can see a softening that he would have welcomed in his youth but now only serves to remind him of how much has been lost.

Still, the map would help. He had to believe that the map would help.

“Hello Professor Lupin.” The twins chorus at him faux-mournfully. “Are you to bring us unwarranted doom as well?”

He laughs out loud this time.

“No boys, I just want to talk to you about my own time here and the mischief my friends and I managed.” That should do it, and indeed Remus is sure he can see a slight widening of the eyes from the Weasley boys.

“Oh no –” Minerva snaps, “Stay on the subject Remus; the last thing this school needs is for them to be taught any further in the ‘art’ of mischief. Get to the point.”

“Fff.” Remus huffs and pulls a daft face at her. “Just because you are not privy to the language of pranks Minerva. Now, boys; I think you know what I’m talking about and I know it goes against everything we all believe in to show such information to any teachers – even if one of those teachers is possessing a marauding spirit himself – but it is important that you do so.” There; that should be more than enough – the boys are only young after all and have not had to learn lessons about information in war.

True to his suspicions the twins exchange only a small flurry of looks before one of them reaches into his pocket and pulls free the familiar ragged parchment.

“Never go anywhere without it!”

Remus swallows back a great nostalgic longing and grins back at them. “Quite right too. Now without further ado – Minerva, if you could cover your ears for this bit?”

Minerva does not cover her ears but she does take a few steps backward – although Remus suspects that that is more out of her own nostalgia and not his showmanship.

Remus points his wand at the map and whispers as quietly as he can, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Familiar spiralling lines blossom from his wand tip and he finds himself hard pressed not to openly weep at the sudden overflow of grief; almost as though he had not allowed himself to mourn over the last decade, a sentiment that rang a little too true in his mind.

“Impressive.” Minerva says, now leaning over his shoulder to peer at the full majesty of their creation, “And the four of you made when you how old?”

“We started in second year and finished in fourth. It took longer than we thought it would to include the grounds without breaking the unplottable rule.”

“What do you mean four?” The twins’ voices sound him out of his trance, “It was made by Moony, Wormtail and Prongs. That’s what it says.”

“With help from Padfoot.” Remus adds, mentally apologising to Sirius, “We thought about adding that at the time but he kept insisting a few months help should not count and anyway, it would have been harder to fit on.”

“Who are you?” One of the twins – he really should try to learn their names – asks quietly, showing more tact in the situation than Remus would have credited either with.

“Moony.” He says hoarsely, “I was called Moony.”

“Was? What do you mean was?”

 _‘It was a childhood nickname; I outgrew it.’_ Is what he means to say but instead something closer to the truth comes tumbling out, “Prongs and Wormtail are both dead now. There’s no one left to call me that.”

The twins have, for once, nothing to say and can offer only sad silence. Remus tries to focus his mind away from those happier times and smooths the map out on the wall; searching for any sign of Peter. He doesn’t need to worry about anyone spotting Sirius’ name as that had been one of the first changes after he agreed to help their fine-tuning.

He focusses his eyes for the most part nearby – inside the Gryffindor common room where Peter should still be hiding.

“Are you looking for anything in particular, Professor?”

“Professor Lupin was kind enough to give up one of his secrets to use in case Sirius Black is, as we suspect, on the grounds.”

The twins pale. “We didn’t think – professor, we would have turned it over if we had, especially after last year; we don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Of course not.” Remus says, finally raising his head from his keen perusal. “Boys your age should not have to worry about things like that. Not about any danger other than failing classes.”

“Speaking of which…” Minerva says pointedly, looking fondly at the three of them.

One twin gives a sharp salute and the other a flourishing bow before ducking backwards towards The Fat Lady.

“I wouldn’t have expected that amount of pomp from you Remus?”

Remus’ mouth twists upward, “I was channelling James. He was very excited about secret societies at eleven.”

“I’ve no doubt. Shall we take this to my office? There’s more room and we can have a cup of tea.”

Remus folds the map back up but doesn’t wipe it.


	6. K

The map remains almost permanently open for the following days. Remus finds mention of Peter a few times but only surrounded by others – and he will not risk student safety.

He avoids talking the forest or any place he may run into Sirius – Sirius who he loves but who he knows will risk the students. Not risk the castle, of course, but Sirius still thinks in term of war and calculated risks. Sirius has spent a decade in the dark and Remus cannot count on his kindness.

He just can’t. He wonders if he’ll ever stop hating himself for that.

In the end he doesn’t get to choose what to do. It’s the full moon and he’s curled up under a desk as Sirius hauls himself through the window and Minerva forgets the date and visits him.

Moony wakes up to a high scream. Inside his mind Remus keeps half an ear on the goings on and sleeps. He will never enjoy the full moon but he does quietly relish the times when he can switch off his human mind completely and relax. Relax as a wolf, but still.

Moony isn’t relaxing; the wolf recognises something wrong with the scene in front of him but can’t tell what. As far as he’s concerned the two people in his rooms are, while uninvited, both friendly.

“Black!”

“Ah.”

Moony gives a low rumbling growl until the two people break their glare. Sirius bends down and scratches him. Moony’s eyes cross in pleasure and he lets his ears droop and sleep to overcome.

/

“Some help you are.” Sirius mutters as his friend relaxes into a soft puddle. He stands up; hands in the air and addresses Minerva. “Can we…wait until Remus wakes up before you do anything?”

She doesn’t answer him; only flicks her wand at the door and window to lock them and then again with no discernible response.

Sirius flinches before he can hold it back. He doesn’t like being anywhere without an exit.

“I have alerted the headmaster who will alert the ministry.” She says in a calm, measured voice. But he notices that her wand-hand shakes a little as she does.

He groans and slumps against the unyielding window. “He won’t.” He says with an air of resignation, “He won’t call anyone.”

“I would hardly think you an authority on Professor Dumbledore’s movements Black.”

“Why do you call me that?” Sirius changes the subject; right now he’s unwilling to talk – or even complain – about human prejudice or behaviour. “I never introduced myself that way.” He’d never introduced himself as Black at all.

“Surely you don’t expect me to call you _Sirius_?”

He shrugs. “After this long I don’t expect humans to understand the importance of names. But if you want to call me something lacking familiarity I introduced myself to you as a Pendragon; that’s my family name, not Black.”

“As I recall you specifically said that they _weren’t_ your family. And why does it matter so much?”

He shrugs again, “A cultural thing I suppose.” He considers the first part of her question; he isn’t stupid enough to think she really cares and isn’t just keeping him distracted but he values honesty more and more every day.

“I felt – feel – wrong being called Pendragon considering all that happened between them and me but it was still my name.”

“But Black’s your name as well isn’t it? Albus said –

Sirius laughs bitterly. “Of course he did! I bet he thought it would weaken me to have one forced on me.” He shakes his head and blinks back angry-tired-sad tears. “As far as I know people started calling me Black as a way of err…dehumanising…me, whittling me down to one trait – a human idea of dark magic.”

Minerva rolls her eyes.

“I’ve listened to your theories on dark magic before and while I will acquiesce that you have a point on some things murder is not light. It can’t be.”

“Who did I kill? Really kill, I mean, not help cause the death of.” He swallows back a thousand fights about the definition of ‘dark’ he’s had a thousand times before and tries to hold the pretence of a civil conversation. Just a few more hours until sunrise and having to make a decision between trying to gain an ally and possibly throwing Remus under a bus or allowing himself to be captured.

He should never have come here.

/

Minerva checks her charms as she listens to Black’s rambling. They’re holding strong although she doesn’t really believe he couldn’t break them if he tried. She doesn’t understand why he isn’t running away.

The obvious answer is that he’s waiting for Remus to wake up but that lends itself to several new problems:

  1. What does he want with Remus that Remus needs to be awake for?
  2. Why is Remus being so familiar with him? 
    1. Is he helping him or does the wolf just not recognise the intricacies of this encounter?
  3. And why, if he and Remus are friends again, would Black come to talk to him on a full moon?



Minerva likes Remus’ company, enjoys having him at the castle and likes talking about students with him. She doesn’t want him to be in league with a death eater.

She raises her wand again and shoots rope around Black’s wrists and legs; he grimaces again and slumps further into the wall.

She doesn’t answer his question. She should never have allowed herself to get drawn into conversation with him.

\

Remus wakes sleepy and weirdly stiff. His hands, when he tries to stretch out, refuse to move. Sadly he recognises this situation.

Instead of doing the sensible thing; rolling over and attempting to fall back to sleep, he opens his eyes and glares at the nearest living body.

It’s Sirius, because of course it is.

Also in the room, which upon further inspection is still his office, are Minerva and Albus but no one else. He supposes it’s a small comfort that the ministry hasn’t been called as well.

“How did you get me into this mess then?” He slurs at Sirius.

“This isn’t my fault actually.” Sirius tries for a grin but guilt shows heavily on his face, “I mean, what sort of idiot forgets that it’s the full moon when they’re visiting a werewolf?”

Minerva splutters at this so Remus assumes she’s the fool in question.

“Why do you always do that? Antagonise people when they’ve got the upper hand? I’ve never heard you bother when you’re safe.”

Sirius shrugs one shoulder. “It worked once. Remus I’m so sorry.”

“Piss off. Why haven’t we been arrested?”

“I have a few questions of my own before the Minister arrives.” Albus says calmly, “I suspect Cornelius will want to authorise the kiss as soon as possible and will not need anything answered.”

“The kiss?” Remus says in confusion. “Sirius is just supposed to be rearrested and this is my first offence – neither of us should be getting the kiss!”

Sirius snorts, “Optimist. Fudge won’t care about any of that – and that’s if he’s even the one authorising it.”

“What?” Remus says at the same time as Minerva. He risks a glance at her; she looks as confused as he feels – Albus however has a familiar knowing gaze. Remus thinks it looks more sinister than usual but then he has been tied up by the man.

Sirius nods at Albus. “The dementors answer to him at the moment, not Fudge. And they’re notoriously greedy; having been around so many young emotional people for so long it wouldn’t really be surprising if they lost control upon finding their prize. No one’s going to get too worked up about what happens to a ‘death eater’ and his werewolf collaborator Remus.”

“Is that a confession?” Albus says before Remus can reply.

“Would it matter?”

“Of course it would –” Minerva begins angrily but Albus holds up a hand to stop her.

“Explain.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Having a dark mark only meant that you would be arrested not convicted. It wasn’t a crime in itself. I never worked for” his gives an involuntary full-face twitch “Voldemort. And neither you nor your ministry have anything else on me. You never did.”

“You betrayed –” Minerva begins but is cut off once again.

“Also not a crime.” Sirius says calmly, “A terrible thing, certainly, and one that definitely deserves punishment but not, in itself, illegal. And regardless we all know that your laws shouldn’t apply to me.”

“Unless we want your laws to apply to us?” Remus confirms. Sirius nods.

Albus steeples his hands in front of him and surveys them. “Why change sides Remus? Why now?”

“Peter’s alive.” He says tiredly, unsure why he allowed himself to be drawn into Sirius’ bizarre conspiracy theories in the first place, instead of just telling people what was happening. Nostalgia probably. “He’s a rat animagus – the pet of one of the students here.”

Sirius must catch something in his voice that the professors fail to because he shifts closer and clasps a bound hand to Remus’ in a gesture of comfort.

Remus swallows before continuing. “It’s alright Sirius; I don’t blame you or regret any of this. I’m just tired of all this double-speak. Why can’t we just say what we mean for once?”

Sirius nods, acquiesces, at him. “Ok. Quickly though Remus; I don’t think you’re the only one who’s gotten tired of waiting.”

/

“Ron! Wake up Ron!” Harry hisses as quietly as he can to his friend while leaning over Ron’s four-poster. He has Scabbers the rat clutched firmly in his hands.

“Ron!” His final hiss is punctuated by a loud yelp as Scabbers bites him on the finger. Ron groans and makes noise of waking but so do the other three boys in the dorm.

Harry had explained about Pettigrew after taking Ron and Hermione to meet Sirius but by the time they returned to the common room the rat had vanished presumably into Hermione’s cat’s mouth. Harry had all but given up hope until tonight when he had been woken up by a shrill squeaking from under his bed.

“What’dyer want Harry?” Ron slurs at him. Harry rolls his eyes and shoves the rat into his friend’s face.

“Do you want to find Professor Lupin with me?” He asks in a whisper.

But not enough of one.

“Why are you going to see Lupin, Harry?” Dean Thomas’ voice, unslurred by sleep, rings out to them; finally waking everyone else up enough that they could join in the conversation.

Ron’s eyes flicker into wakening at the sight of Scabbers and he pushes his covers away. “You found him!” He says delightedly.

“Is that Scabbers?” Neville says from the window bed.

“Shh.” Harry glares at them before making an executive decision. “I need to find Lupin, you lot can come along if you want and I’ll explain on the way.”

“Hermione will kill us for missing this.” Ron says quietly to him as the four boys struggle to pull on their slippers and follow Harry.

/

There were dementors outside the window.

Remus’ explanation was drawing to its natural end but Sirius couldn’t focus on either the story or whether it looked like their captors were listening.

There were dementors outside the window. He doesn’t understand why nobody else is bothered by them. Even with Minerva’s charms on the windows there was no guarantee they wouldn’t get in. Dementors were good at circumnavigating wards.

Slowly Sirius became aware that Remus had stopped talking and a silence had pervaded the room. The other occupants were all staring at him.

He meets all of their eyes in turn and eventually releases a breath he can’t remember taking.

“I – sorry,”

He’s saved from any explanation by a tentative but still loud, knocking on the door.

Remus freezes. “The minister?” He says slowly.

Albus Dumbledore shakes his head. “Mr. Black was quite correct in his assumption that I had not called him. However I must clarify that I never intended to have either of you kissed.”

He waves his wand twice – once at Remus to untie him (but not Sirius) and again to open the door. Through it tumbles Harry surrounded by four other pajama-clad boys; one that Sirius can recognise as Ron but also three strangers.

But before he can dwell on that his eyes catch on something far more important: there, in Harry’s hand –

Peter!


End file.
